The God of night plods about in the dark;
The Upland God makes a dash for Vavau.
The pali are notched like teeth, dissevered,
Their front clean shaven, where sailed the bosen,—
White breast of down—on outstretched wings.
The gods ascend to the highlands;
The goddess Pele tears in a frenzy;
She raves and beats about in the Pit:
Its crumbled walls float like boats in the gulf:
An ash-heap is Puna, melted its sand—